


Beside You

by forgetmenotjimmy



Series: Sacrifice [2]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 02:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15014216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmenotjimmy/pseuds/forgetmenotjimmy
Summary: Continuing from 'I'm Still Here', Trip, Malcolm and Jon try to come to terms with emotions dragged up from the 'incident' and work out how to relate to each other under these new circumstances.





	Beside You

Shuffling into the Mess the next morning, praying that anyone watching would assume his strange walk was due to tiredness, Trip surreptitiously eyed the occupants. It was still a good while before the beginning of Alpha shift so it was mostly gamma shifters getting a night cap or early birds getting first pick of the breakfast menu. The Commander was only looking to nab a cup of strong coffee before hiding away in Engineering for the entirety of his shift, so he was dismayed to see the usually reclusive Lieutenant Reed spot him and wave him over. Well, maybe he could get away with a few minutes of chat before slinking away. He didn’t want to reject this rare overture from the Armory Officer, no matter how surly and unsocial he himself was feeling.

Trip grabbed his coffee and limped as subtly as he could to Reed’s table, sinking gingerly into a chair, avoiding the surely knowing look in those steel grey eyes.

“Mornin’.” He muttered.

“Good morning, Commander.” There was a pause. “How are you feeling today?” The innocuous question caused the Commander’s eyes to flicker upwards for a moment. But he hardly took in the junior officer’s face before his eyes were on the table again. He took a sip, wincing at the heat in his mouth, before replying shortly.

“Fine. You?”

“I’m alright.” Another careful pause and then a PADD was slid along the table. “My report on yesterday’s incident.” Trip blinked at it a moment, then looked back up at Malcolm, seeing the man underneath the uniform. The friend. Almost dizzy with the amount of gratitude he felt at the understanding in his friend’s eyes, he gulped and very deliberately didn’t move as he remarked.

“That should go to T’Pol.” Reed watched him another moment before nodding and retrieving it, as if Trip had actually looked and approved it. As he slipped it into his pocket, Trip glanced around the room again. “How much do the crew know?”

“The Captain was infected by a nasty bug on the surface. It made him disorientated with some temporary memory loss. So it was decided that, as you had the longest history with him, you’d be the best person to administer the antidote.” Unable to hide his snort at the highly reduced version of events and double entendre implied by the Brit’s ‘proper’ tone, Trip felt some tension ease out of his frame. The crew were a perceptive bunch and it was possible that some of them would find the official explanation suspicious, but it was unlikely that the truth would be widely accepted – even if someone did stumble upon it with their wild imaginations. There was something reassuring to be found in Reed’s stiff, official voice and Trip basked in it for a minute. As if sensing that his friend needed a moment, Malcolm went back to his breakfast and the pair spent a pleasant few minutes in companionable silence. Now that his coffee was at drinkable temperatures, Trip flashed Malcolm a smile and stood up.

“See you later?” Malcolm returned his smile.

“See you later.”

Despite jumping at shadows for most of the morning, Trip’s day was otherwise uneventful. A few people asked after the Captain, but after he’d muttered the stock explanation, everyone seemed to accept it and move on. It was almost lunch time, according to Trip’s stomach, and he was just finishing off a routine diagnostic when a voice interrupted his plans.

“Are you well?” Cursing the quietness of Vulcan steps, Trip turned to glare at the intruder and answered unhelpfully.

“If you read Doctor Phlox’s report then you’d know the answer to that.” Not even raising an eyebrow, the Sub Commander elaborated.

“I was more interested in your mental wellbeing.” He looked at her for a long moment, trying to read her expression. They’d come a long way from that first mission, but sometimes he still wasn’t sure if she was genuinely concerned or mocking his inferior human mind – in a friendly way of course. Vulcans were strange, strange creatures.

“Well, I’ll be honest, it wasn’t the most pleasant experience in the world,” there was the eyebrow raise, he forced himself to ignore it, “but I’ll get over it.”

“Vulcans do not have the concept of ‘friendship’, but I have seen that it can be a strong relationship between humans.” Resisting the urge to fiddle, Trip forced himself to listen to T’Pol, sure that the point would be arriving shortly. “Your loyalty to your friends is one of your better qualities, Commander.” Eyes widening, Trip could only stare. Was that…a compliment? “But it would be illogical to injure yourself unnecessarily on your friends’ behalf.” Double checking his team were out of ear-shot, he still lowered his voice as he countered a little tersely.

“If I remember rightly, you signed off on it.”

“It was the most logical solution; that does not mean it was without consequences.” Jaw tightening, he managed to grind out sullenly.

“Consequences I said I’d accept.” The Vulcan studied him for a long moment in silence, irritating him even more as his mind provided predictions of what scathing remarks she’d throw at him next. No wait, not throw, present to him calmly and logically.

“In my position as First Officer, one of my duties is to monitor the crew’s performance and support them where needed.” She paused and said quietly, in that roundabout way she sometimes adopted. “It is sometimes difficult for me to know how to perform this duty satisfactorily.” Well hot damn, if she hadn’t found his weak spot. A jolt of warm fuzziness melted his anger; his recognition of her genuine insecurity added to her taking the time to – as Lieutenant Reed had once put it ‘figure him out’ – overrode any irritation from being manipulated. As it was, he didn’t even try to fight the urge to reassure her.

“You’re doing just fine. It’s me that’s…” He sighed heavily, wiping his face. “It’ll take a little time maybe, but things’ll work out.” She looked doubtful, in that way where she hardly moved her facial muscles, but didn’t contradict him.

“If I can assist you in any manner, let me know.” Feeling drained, he managed a weak smile.

“Sure thing.” As he watched her walk away, that infuriatingly ugly haircut bobbing along, he thought that the Sub Commander was actually doing quite well for the difficult task she had. A sudden memory struck him, Jon’s voice assuring him that there was no one he’d rather for First Officer. That had been before Klang and the Vulcans with their ‘deals’ and everything else. But still…His heart ached for the lost feeling, the lost certainty of his place in Jon’s world. Well, there went his appetite. He went back to work.

…

Malcolm was just finishing his before-bed yoga routine. After a long day of supervising training and drills, he hadn’t had the energy to do a round in the gym, so he’d added a few extra positions so as to not lose any suppleness or muscle strength. One didn’t want to make a habit of skipping exercise and lose one’s edge, did they? There wasn’t much room, but he had enough and was extra thankful for the perks of rank that he didn’t have to share with anyone. His bunkmate at the Academy had reeked to high heaven, a stench that pervaded all of Reed’s increasingly desperate attempts to combat or mask them. He had a lot of sympathy for the First Officer in that regard. Holding in the final pose, he breathed evenly and enjoyed the stretch. Yes, today had been a good day.

His door chiming startled him a little. Hardly anyone came to visit him in his quarters, so he wasn’t used to the sound. Curious, he opened the door and froze. Trip stared back at him. They hadn’t spoken alone since their brief encounter at breakfast a few days earlier. They’d seen each other on duty, discussing ship matters and they’d seen each the off duty, having meals with others in the Mess Hall. Apart from lingering awkwardness he’d seen between the Captain and Commander, everything had seemed fine. Now his friend looked tired and beaten down, sagging slightly as he stood there in civilian clothes.

“Hey.” He said tiredly, and then stood there looking like he didn’t have enough energy to explain why he was there. Malcolm frowned and invited the poor man in. After a long moment, Trip obliged, and when the door was shut, managed. “I guess you figured it out.” He sat down on the bed without invitation but Malcolm just sat on the desk chair and let him go on. “Me and Jon.” Carefully, not really sure what Trip was asking, Malcolm ventured.

“I don’t know anything.” Bunching the sheets between his left thumb and forefinger, Trip spoke into his chest.

“But you could make a pretty accurate guess, I bet.” Still confused, Malcolm considered that maybe Trip needed to talk about it with someone. If Malcolm read the situation right, then no one else even knew. His friend seemed to appreciate his ‘straight-shooting’ as he called it, so he said plainly.

“At some point in the past, you and Captain Archer were…you had a romantic relationship.” Trip’s expression didn’t change. “But you don’t anymore.” A bitter laugh escaped the engineer, but he just kept staring at his fingers in the sheets. Malcolm did not like this at all. He didn’t know what to say so he stayed silent, knowing from experience that Nature – and Trip Tucker – hated a vacuum. Thankfully, even in his current state, that maxim was still true as his friend muttered.

“It’s not really a big deal.” Hiding the flash of inappropriate amusement he felt at that likely highly inaccurate statement, Malcolm just hummed encouragingly. “We were friends and then we were more and now we’re friends again.” Lip ticking upwards, feeling fond of the morose figure on his bed despite himself, Malcolm changed tack, tutting and commenting innocently.

“And you say the Vulcans are emotionless drones!” Slowly, Trip raised his head, frown creasing his forehead.

“Huh?”

“You’re saying that you just turned off any romantic feelings you had for the Captain? Or you never had any to begin with? Either way–”

“Alright! Alright I get it.” Snapping, his brow creasing deeper, Trip looked away again. After a moment, he went back to fiddling with the sheet. Malcolm watched him, feeling exhausted already but not willing to give up on helping his friend.

“What am I going to do?” A little startled by the question, Malcolm realised that he must have zoned out during the silence and re-joined automatically.

“About what?” Waving his arms a little, Trip said bitterly.

“About Jon, about my ‘romantic feelings’, about…” His breathing sped up a little and his voice grew thick. “About how he dropped me as soon as they offered him _Enterprise_. Jesus, it was the same fucking day!” He stood and began to pace, fists shaking minutely. Malcolm tucked his feet out of the way and let the rant go on. “He couldn’t fucking wait to get rid of me! Didn’t even hesitate! And he used that tone, God I hate that fucking tone!” He halted suddenly, putting his hands on his hips and making his voice deeper. “‘We always knew this day was coming, Trip. I’m sure you understand how important this is to me, Trip’.” Wincing at how his friend’s voice cracked at the end, Malcolm opened his mouth to speak meaningless platitudes but Trip swiftly recovered and resumed his pacing. “Yeah, of course, how could I have missed how little I meant to you next to your daddy’s ghost? How ashamed you were of us, how much you worried about anyone finding out and ruining your chances to be Captain of _Enterprise_.” Rounding on Malcolm, he snarled suddenly. “You know he spent more time bitching about the Vulcans and how they were holding everything up than he ever spent listening to me? How could I have been so stupid, so blind?” Eyes shining his gaze went distant. “Guess that taught me, huh?” Unable to take anymore, Malcolm surged to his feet and Trip blinked at him, surprise wiping away the anger and bitterness. Biting down his discomfort, Malcolm slowly raised his arms in a welcoming gesture and face crumpling, Trip sniffed. One step forward and they were separated only by a thin layer of air. Then Malcolm’s hands were on Trip’s shoulders and Trip was stammering. “He didn’t…I d-don’t think he ever even l-loved me.” Pulling his friend into his chest, Malcolm ordered gently.

“Let go.” And Trip did.

Standing there, holding his closest friend in years, Malcolm tried to remember the last time he’d held anyone whilst they cried. In fact, when was the last time he’d held anyone full stop? Probably an ex-girlfriend. His dry sense of humour often won him amiable companions and good working relationships, but he’d never been one to offer a shoulder to cry on. Negative emotions, especially grief, often made him uncomfortable and unsure, everything he thought of to say would sound meaningless, or worse, sarcastic. He envied the Commander’s openness, how he seemed to know instinctively how to reassure someone or make them feel better. A few encouraging words here, a shoulder squeeze there, or sometimes he just listened and nodded. He kept his cool in high-pressure situations, channelling frustration or fear into action, but in his down-time Trip felt deeply. It was very admirable. But then again, such emotional openness did come with its downsides.

When Trip had finally run out of tears, it was difficult to tell which of them was more embarrassed. Though Malcolm furiously rejected all of Trip’s red-faced apologies. Finally, he snapped. “You’re not the one who should be sorry!” That clicked Trip’s mouth closed and he stared warily at the Armoury Officer. Then his lips twitched and he smirked a little.

“Jeez Malcolm, alright, whatever you say!” Sighing and folding his arms to show how unimpressed he was, Malcolm allowed himself a little smirk as well. Successfully saved from the cycle of apologies, Trip rubbed his face and yawned. “It’s late, I should let you get some sleep.”

“And some for yourself.” Trip offered a sloppy salute.

“Yes, sir.” Watching his friend shuffle out, Malcolm felt a little kernel of warmth root itself in his heart. He knew he’d helped Trip, if only slightly, and he felt optimistic – for once! – about his chances of helping his friend again.

…

Try as he might, Malcolm couldn’t help but view Captain Archer a little differently after Trip’s breakdown in his quarters. Ironically, he now saw that the Captain was more like his ideal of a good Commanding Officer than he’d originally thought. Putting duty before personal relationships was high on the list of positive attributes. Dumping someone who it was clear had deep feelings for you as part of a career move showed how great Archer’s ambition, his dedication to the mission, really was. A large part of Malcolm couldn’t help but admire the spirit behind the decision, even as he recognised that it could also be viewed as quite a cold move.

On the other hand, he knew that he’d only heard Trip’s side of the story and secretly he doubted that Archer had no lingering romantic feelings for his ex-lover. Although he was admirably restrained when he wanted to be, the Captain still had some tells which Reed had figured out. In staff meetings and debriefings Archer’s gaze would sometimes linger on Tucker after the engineer had spoken and on the odd occasion which Reed saw the two whilst they were off-duty, there was sometimes this wistful look in the Captain’s eye. Trip was too blinded by his hurt to see the signs, or maybe just too angry with how he’d been treated to consider it. But then the fact that Archer might also be mourning the end of the relationship didn’t really help them. Nothing had changed. If anything, he probably felt even more strongly that he’d made the right decision, seeing as they’d nearly had to end the mission early on several occasions, not to mention almost losing crewmembers. No one knew better than Archer how precarious their position really was; how easily it could all be lost.

Then there was the matter of his own feelings. Usually as brutally honest with himself as possible, he knew he'd been attracted to Tucker from the start. That sexual attraction hadn't been an issue - it wasn't as if Malcolm hadn't also noticed the plethora of other attractive young crewmembers - until he'd actually gotten to know the man, fatally lowering his defences and finding the engineer under his skin. It had taken some time, and a lot of chiselling of his outer walls on Trip's part, before he'd realised that Commander Tucker really was 'Trip' to him when off-duty and he was a man Malcolm actually cared for. Even knowing it was pointless to speculate - it was quite clear that it would take some time for Trip to recover emotionally from the breakup with Captain Archer - Malcolm couldn't help but daydream sometimes, wondering what it would be like to kiss those plump lips, to feel those strong hands gliding over his skin. Yes, quite pointless...

In all, Malcolm resolved that it wasn’t his place to interfere, even if he could have figured out how, but he could continue to help Trip recover emotionally. He could be there for his friend.

…

It was two weeks after the ‘incident’ when Archer realised that he hadn’t had a proper conversation with his Chief Engineer since. No, that wasn’t right. He’d talked plenty to his Chief Engineer, but said hardly anything to his friend. It wasn't as if he was avoiding him perse. He, Trip and T'Pol still had most breakfasts together and he'd attended Movie Night once since... But then he hadn't exactly gone out of his way to spend time with his friend either. He’d successfully avoided Phlox’s attempts to get him to talk about his ‘emotional responses’ to the incident in the last check up, beyond admitting – again – that he was uncomfortable. The Doctor had asked if he’d discussed the incident with Commander Tucker and technically he had, so it wasn’t a lie when he confirmed it. Phlox hadn’t looked particularly happy, but hadn’t pushed him. He’d seen that Phlox had also given Trip the all-clear and bit down on his impulse to ask how much Tucker had divulged to the doctor of his own ‘emotional responses’ to the incident. It wasn’t any of his business.

But he hadn’t spent any off-duty time with Tucker one-on-one since the incident and that could not continue. After recovering from his breakdown at listening to the recording, Archer had dried his tears and swallowed down all the emotions it had kicked up. He couldn’t deny that some part of him did miss his romantic relationship with Trip, perhaps it was a bigger part of him than even he had realised, but he couldn’t afford to lose sight of all the excellent, rational reasons to give up the relationship. They’d ended it for a number of excellently logical reasons, most of which were still in effect. T’Pol would be proud of him; not that he dared test that theory by actually telling her about it. He’d watched her a bit warily the first few days afterwards but she hadn’t given him any indication that she suspected anything. Thank God for small favours.

He was pacing in his quarters, ignoring Porthos’ eyes on him when he stopped suddenly. He glanced at the chronometer: 21:00. It wasn’t too late; knowing Trip, he would still be up. No time like the present. With a renewed sense of purpose, he strode off to see Trip. The fact that Trip’s parting promise still echoed in his mind sometimes had no bearing on his decision.

He had just turned the corner to the officer’s quarters on B deck when a door opened. He saw Malcolm and realised that he was leaving Trip’s room. Malcolm saw him and his expression flickered.

“Captain.” He said stiffly and Archer’s insides erupted in chaos. Eyes flicking from the casual clothes up to his face, automatically looking for signs of suspicious wrinkling, he came up empty. Except…there! Cheeks slightly flushed. Embarrassment or recent exertion? Either reason was incriminating. He hadn’t realised that he’d stopped walking until the junior officer coughed and stepped into the middle of the corridor, edging slowly to his own quarters. Belatedly, Archer answered just as awkwardly.

“Lieutenant.” He opened his mouth to ask what the hell he’d been doing in Trip’s quarters but then swiftly shut it again. Instead he grimaced and nodded as the Lieutenant grimaced back and escaped. _Huh._ He waited until the Lieutenant had left before looking back at Trip’s door. Then he dithered. Would it be a good idea to go in? To find out exactly what they’d been doing in there? Did he even want to know? But then he decided that he couldn’t bear not knowing and pressed the chime. There was a short pause and then a relaxed Trip opened it, question on his face. He startled a little as he recognised Archer.

“Cap’n?”

“Sorry, should have commed first.”

“No…no! Come in, come in…er…” Ordinarily Archer would get some amusement at the sight of Trip trying to subtly clean up, but he was too busy looking for clues. The sheets on the bed looked neat enough, Trip was fully dressed... He saw two glasses on the desk but there was a jug of water next to them, not a bottle of anything. Taking a subtle sniff, he couldn’t smell anything suspicious either. Had they just been talking? Watching a movie? No popcorn smell… “So ah…what can I do for ya, Cap’n?”

“Just saw Malcolm outside.” He watched Trip carefully as he asked. “What were you guys doing?” Trip eyed him warily before shrugging and answering casually.

“Jus’ talkin’. Why d’ya ask?” He frowned as Archer just watched him, irritation at the silent accusation apparent. “Am I not allowed to have other friends?” Unconvinced, Archer probed further.

“Sure you’re just friends?” Trip crossed his arms; face like stone, he said slowly.

“I’m sure that’s not any of your business.” Archer opened his mouth but Trip snapped. “I am not having this conversation with you.” Archer breathed in, feeling unsettled and a little guilty, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to apologise. So instead he said.

“Alright.” There was a long pause as he struggled to remember any of what he’d planned to say. He’d had an excuse, what had it been?

“What are you doing here Jon?” Trip’s tone surprised him. He couldn’t remember his ex-lover being that sharp with him before, that… unaccommodating. It hit him then. If he didn’t get his act together, this could be how it would be from now on. He couldn’t bear it.

“I came to see you.” Trip’s expression didn’t change. He tried again. “I realised that we haven’t talked since…the ‘incident’. I didn’t mean to avoid you so I’m sorry if that’s what it seemed like.” There, a softening in his friend’s face, his shoulders unstiffening slightly and encouraged, Jon went on. “I was wondering if you wanted to catch a game sometime?” Trip looked away, expression complicated. Jon tried not to fidget or start pacing in the short silence that followed. Finally, Trip uncrossed his arms and half-shrugged.

“Yeah, okay.” He said hoarsely. There was so much more Jon wanted to say, damage he wanted to mend, but he could tell that he could do more harm than good if he pushed too hard. So he just bowed out gracefully and tried to be happy with the small sign that things would be okay. He resolutely did not think about Reed's face as he saw the Captain standing there or Trip's refusal to confirm the nature of their relationship.

…

The next morning, Trip shuffled around Engineering almost in a daze. What a night! First he and Malcolm had spent a good hour or two shooting the breeze, relaxing after long days. Sick of hearing himself complain about his dead love life over the last few weeks, Trip had forced himself to talk about other things – mostly gossiping about other crewmembers. Malcolm was surprisingly up to date with the comings and goings of not only his own team, but others on board as well. The twinkle in his eye the only betrayal of his almost evil glee at relating the juiciest pieces of gossip. He’d seemingly learned how to handle Trip when he was in one of his rare moods – having been exposed to them more than normal due to Trip’s ranting sessions- and now Malcolm could successfully tease, cajole or amuse the engineer into smiling most of the time. He was lucky, Trip thought. Malcolm really was a great friend. He’d been in a good mood when his friend had left that night, blissfully unaware of the scene taking place outside his door.

He could tell that Jon had been taken aback by Malcolm’s presence in his room; he’d sounded jealous. Trip had thought that he’d been jealous of the thought that other people were getting some. It had to be lonely at the top sometimes, even with breakfasts with the crew, movie night and other social events he attended, the Cap’n was technically everyone’s superior so words were watched whenever he was around. So he could understand the Captain resenting the time Trip spent with other friends. But then he’d accused Trip and Malcolm of being more than friends. That thought almost made Trip laugh. As if he could just get over his relationship with Jon and move on that fast. Even if being with Malcolm wasn’t actually that ridiculous an idea. Trip was depressed, he wasn’t blind to either his friend’s looks or how well they gelled together, when they weren’t fighting of course. A relationship between them – providing the Security Officer was willing – wouldn’t be…

He cut off that train of thought, no good in baseless speculation. He was still mourning the breakup and he should focus on getting over that. Still, it would be terrible if poor Malcolm suffered just because Jon had some issues. He’d asked if he could visit Malcolm that evening and spent the time before the agreed hour pacing in his own room.

Malcolm waved him in and Trip started before the door was even closed.

“Sorry about last night. I didn’t think you’d…” He sighed and rubbed his face. Cocking his head a little, Malcolm asked.

“I’d what?”

“Get drawn into it.” At Malcolm’s questioning glance, he explained, red-faced and avoiding his friend’s eyes. “The Cap’n was wondering what you were doing in my quarters, thought maybe there was something going on between us.” Sounding curious instead of incensed or mortally offended, Malcolm just asked calmly.

“What did you say to him?”

“Jus’ that it was none of his business.” Scratching the back of his head, Trip winced. “I suppose I shoudla set him straight though.” Lips pursing, Malcolm said stiffly.

“The Captain can think what he likes.” Pulling his hand down, Trip frowned.

 “You’re not worried he’ll jump to the wrong conclusion?”

“Captain Archer isn’t the type to penalise people without good reason.” He gestured to them both. “We’re not technically in the same command chain or even the same department. If we were,” he tilted his head slightly in what Trip interpreted as British for ‘getting it on’, “then there wouldn’t be anything he could do.” Going along with this hypothetical scenario, Trip folded his arms and countered.

“Even if he couldn’t hand out any reprimands, he might look at you differently. You two have just…gotten used to each other. You don’t want that to change cos he thinks we might be…you know.”

“That seems unlikely.” Trip frowned, not quite buying his friend’s supposed nonchalance.

“You’re really not bothered by this?” Malcolm countered.

“Are you?” Trip laughed.

“Nuhuh, I asked first.” Giving his friend a look but still giving in, Malcolm said sincerely.

“Truth be told, not really. You’re my friend Trip and I want to do what I can to be there for you. I’m not the one stuck between the Captain and the rest of the crew, with all of this messy history making things complicated. And if the Captain really does give either of us a hard time because he thinks we’re together, then he’s not the man I think he is.” Touched, Trip swallowed before replying just as sincerely.

“You’re my friend too. And I agree it wouldn’t be Jon’s style to start treating us different, but…I just don’t want you getting hurt over our mess.” He smiled a little. “I care about you too.” Malcolm bristled slightly, about to refute Trip’s assumption, but on seeing that smile he deflated, knowing that it was too late. He’d been found out. Hesitating a moment, he reached out and put a warm hand on Trip’s shoulder and smile widening, Trip mirrored him.

They stood grinning at each other for a minute, then called it a night and went to bed feeling warm.

...

Two days later, Captain Archer invited Lieutenant Reed to breakfast. The Lieutenant arrived without his PADD in hand and, having remembered a tidbit he'd learned about his Armoury Officer, the pair managed to swap tales from their Eagle Scout days for a pleasant ten minutes or so. Then the Captain put down his orange juice and said.

"Actually Malcolm, I wanted to thank you." Reed raised his eyebrow, mind already narrowing in on what he suspected this to be about but willing to let the Captain have his moment. Lo and behold, Archer continued stiffly. "For being there for Trip," his voice went quiet and sad, "when I couldn't be."

"Comm- Trip is my friend, sir." Archer winced a bit at the reminder of his status as Reed's superior but didn't interrupt. "It's what friends do." As if unsure if that was a dig at him for not being a good friend, Archer's brow wrinkled momentarily, before seemingly dismissing any misgivings over Reed's statement.

"Of course. In any case, it makes me feel a lot better, that he has you." Reed hesitated a moment before nodding and then glancing at his chronometer.

"I apologise Captain, but I should-" Waving him away in understanding, Archer grimaced a smile. Stiffly, Reed grimaced and exited the room. Once the door swished shut behind him, both men sighed silently before shrugging. How much better could that have gone? Later that day, Commander Tucker answered a comm from the Armoury and sauntered in, looking over Reed's shoulder at some simulations. Quietly, Reed related what had been discussed at breakfast and Tucker considered. 

"Looks like baby steps from here on out." Malcolm frowned slightly.

"I might need a few hours to come up with a good code name...something about 'Operation Babysteps' doesn't quite..." Smirking, Trip slapped his friend on the shoulder and backed out of the Armoury, calling.

"I'll expect an update by shift's end." Saluting, Malcolm turned and went back to work, a small smile threatening to break over his face. His team wisely did not notice this, nor any other signs of their boss being more chipper than usual.


End file.
